


the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow

by antivanitas



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: "what is love?"-garrus vakarian, ???there's a lot of me not understanding turian biology also, Alien Sex, Bottom Garrus, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Power Play, Rushed Sex, anyways the sex is graphic and pwp, between me1 and me2, comission, introspective, there's a blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 01:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5649439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivanitas/pseuds/antivanitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Garrus can’t breathe.  He’s on top, always on top, of life and sex and everything in between.  Sidonis takes that away from him.  Sidonis makes him beg and scream and plead to be on the bottom."</p>
<p>Garrus and Sidonis find it hard to achieve equilibrium during the daylight hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for a friend!!! i don't usually write for the ME fandom but i am familiar w the lore. this was difficult to write because i've never seen turians as sexual while playing the game. i hope it works well~!

He knew, when he saw Sidonis bloody and grinning in the face of death, that they’d get along well. Omega is arguably not very kind to turians. This is easily provable by the sheer amount of resistance he faced getting Sidonis away from his attackers. Garrus knew they needed to stick together well before they actually decided to do it.

Wordless. A wordless decision they made together, when they started donning weapons and allies. When Garrus pointed at drug dealers and murderers and wanted them dead, and suddenly he had his own army behind him to do what he wanted. They never needed to ask each other if this was what they both were after. It was something they just did.

Garrus doesn’t like to be second in command, so he leads instead of Sidonis, and he thinks that’s why they’re in the situation they’re in right now. Sidonis needs to feel the same level of control—of power—but he doesn’t feel it when Garrus is there to lead the others. It’s not as if Sidonis would ever voice this out loud, but then again, he certainly doesn’t have to.

Garrus thinks of when they first met. Sidonis, bathed in Afterlife neon light, soaked in cobalt blue blood. Sidonis, cursing the barefaced politicians at the Citadel who had landed him there in the first place.   
Garrus thinks of Sidonis right now. There is no light around them, except for the dull glow of the hall lamps flooding in from the crooked and broken seal of the door. Sidonis is anything but beaten and bloody when they’re in here. When their reality stops for just a few minutes.

Sidonis is all over him. Armor is already gathering in a small pile as the other turian moves, sliding more and more off Garrus’ body until he stands stark naked. Vulnerable. The glint in Sidonis’ eyes, though difficult to see, shows there’s no end to his pleasure in seeing Garrus open and waiting.

Garrus can’t breathe. He’s on top, always on top, of life and sex and everything in between. Sidonis takes that away from him. Sidonis makes him beg and scream and plead to be on the bottom.

No screaming now, though. Garrus barely utters an, “Oh, fuck” before Sidonis is slamming their mouths together, silencing the outburst. Sidonis has two talons on Garrus’ pelvis, massaging back and forth to coax out what he wants to see.

“Shut up,” Sidonis hisses. It’s embarrassing for Garrus to see that this is what makes his body react. Being commanded, demanded—that’s what causes his cock to show, and finally he can’t hide any part of him at all.

The walls are thin. Garrus has to keep his gasps quiet, he knows, but Sidonis sinks to his knees and somehow makes cocksucking look like pure dominance. The light casts sharp shadows across Sidonis’ face, making him look so angular and so fucking geometrical that it reminds Garrus of calculating angles when he’s sniping. Sidonis suddenly grips his thighs and scratches, and Garrus’ head hits the wall.

“What was that for?” Garrus says indignantly, although it comes out more like a breathy whisper and he hates himself.

“You’re thinking about work.” Sidonis casts a look up at him and his tongue slowly, carefully brushes under Garrus’ cock. “Stop. And shut up.”

How does he know that? Is Garrus not participating enough? Sidonis would give him more than a few scratches for that. The other turian swirls his tongue and bobs his head until his eyes are mere centimeters away from Garrus’ pelvis. There’s a choking sound. Drool unashamedly slips from one of the corners of Sidonis’ mouth.

Garrus’ mind is a frenzy of heat and lust and fire. Sidonis is up by his mouth again, biting him, and Garrus loses focus and grip on reality. Their cocks slid together—Garrus keens like it’s painful, and Sidonis slams their mouths together to keep him quiet. He can hear creaks coming from down the hall, as if a member of their alliance is getting up from their bed. The two of them stand completely still.  
He can feel the throbbing of Sidonis’ cock against his, dark blue heads leaking and brushing one another. Garrus holds his breath. Footsteps walk past the door, pause, and Garrus is suddenly aware that his legs are slowly being parted.

The footsteps walk away. Creaks are heard in the next room, indicating the offending member of the team has released suspicion.

Sidonis growls, but so quietly that Garrus can hardly hear. Garrus just clings as Sidonis lifts him into the air like he’s just a hologram. His legs rest so well on Sidonis’ hipbones it’s like they were meant to be in this position. Born to be like this, in a dark storage room, with Sidonis about to fuck him into next week.  
And there’s no warning when Sidonis pushes inside of him, like he does every night, forcing his way up into Garrus. Garrus opens his mouth in a weak, silent cry, because he knows he loves this and he can’t pretend he doesn’t. It hurts. Fuck, it burns, but it’s better than any heat he’s ever felt before. The pleasure feels like the center of the flame, a faded indigo, while the pain surrounds him and engulfs him in a searing gold.

“Sid,” he whimpers. Whimpers. “H-ah—“

Sidonis shoves his hips forward. Garrus reacts to each thrust with a dampened grunt, until they rise in volume and intensity and Sidonis has to push his fingers into Garrus’ mouth. Garrus nearly chokes, biting and sucking on them, knowing he’d sound like a used whore were his moans not plugged up.  
The flame burns hotter and hotter. It’s a blowtorch, now. The center of a laser. A plasma bullet. Garrus shudders. He’s shaking with the force of Sidonis slamming into him, feeling like Sidonis is going to fucking break something inside of him, and he’s going so fucking deep but it feels so incredible to be stretched and open and vulnerable and used.

“Gonna come,” he gasps. “G-gonna—shit, Sid, fuckfuckfuck—“

He doesn’t come first, which is surprising. Sidonis slams his hands on either side of Garrus’ head, keeping the other turian up with the force of his final thrust, and fills Garrus up with his come until it drips out. It’s the feeling of this which does Garrus in. He feels like he’s bursting, and the warmth, the heat of Sidonis’ cum has him quivering and coming with a shout.

It drips down his thighs and Garrus can’t even stand. He slumps to the floor, panting, dazed. He’s covered in cum—his own and Sidonis’, who is currently sliding up his clothes and straightening his bottoms into place.

He glares down at Garrus, doing a poor attempt at hiding his own heavy breathing. “I wonder if you’re a screamer with anyone else.”

And then he’s prying the broken door open and leaving Garrus like a blown-out candle; melted down with the flame extinguished.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is genderfluidstanmarsh c:


End file.
